Once Upon a Power Play (15 page)

Disgusted, he threw the phone back in the bag and turned to Bash. “It’s bullshit,” he said, looking his friend in the eye. “There is nothing going on between me and Kelsey. She had too much to drink New Year’s Eve and made a pass at me. I told her to take a walk. She tripped, I caught her. End of story.”

“Apparently not.” Bash shook his head and scrubbed his hands over his face. “You really expect me to believe that?”

Ryan shrugged. It was the truth, and it was all he had to offer. Pointing out that Kelsey had set him up with zero consideration for Bash’s feelings wasn’t going to help. She’d already screwed him over ten ways to Sunday. No need to rub salt in the wound. Hell, she’d screwed them all over. “I’m sorry you had to find out like this, but I promise you there is nothing going on between us. And there never will be. I love Chloe.”

Shit.

He loved Chloe.

And she would probably never speak to him again.

Chapter Nineteen

R
yan climbed the stairs to Chloe’s apartment, willing her to be home. It was the first time he’d been back in the city since that damn article had run on Page Six. The team had gone straight from the Tarrytown practice facility on a road series, and she’d been ignoring his calls and texts for days. He was worried about her. Really worried. In fact, she hadn’t responded to a single message. Not one. Not to ask if it was true. Not to tell him to stay away. Not even to call him a son-of-a-bitching-no-good-lying-rat-bastard-piece-of-shit-cheater or whatever colorful name she could come up with. Her silence was worse. More painful, somehow. As if it carried an echo of finality.

Final his ass. He wouldn’t accept it. Couldn’t. He’d talk to her—make her see reason. The alternative had his gut twisted in anxious knots.

Stopping in front of her door, he wiped his palms on his jeans and drew a deep breath. He needed to center himself, just as he did before a game. One way or another, she was going to talk to him. Even if it meant he had to sit in front of her damn door all night.

He knocked.

No answer.

He knocked again.

This time he heard footsteps beyond the door. She was definitely home. Whether or not she would willingly answer was an entirely different question. “Chloe, please open the door. I know you’re home.”

Nothing.

Time for the bold approach. “I’ve got all night and I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”

“Go away.” Her reply was muffled, but he was willing to bet she was just on the other side of the door.

“Not happening.” Mere inches separated them, but it felt like miles. He needed her to see her. Needed to see her beautiful face, to look into her eyes. Then maybe she’d know the truth of his words. “Like I said, I’ve got all night. I hope your neighbors don’t mind.” He paused, letting her contemplate the prospect of him camping in her hallway. “Fair warning, I’ve been known to sing to pass the time. Loudly.”

There was a
thunk
on the other side of the door, as though she’d banged her head against it in resignation. He wasn’t exactly looking for resignation, but if it got her to open up, he’d take it.

Thwack
!

Ryan’s pulse quickened at the sound of the lock being disengaged. When she finally opened the door, his heart stopped. His girl—the gorgeous, spunky, fearless woman he’d come to cherish—was nowhere to be seen. In her place stood a woman who looked lifeless, defeated, and utterly dejected. She’d been crying. Even without the tear tracks, he’d have seen it in her puffy, red-rimmed eyes. He’d done that to her. To the woman he loved. And it broke his heart.

When he reached for her, she jerked away, her body stiffening. The wide-necked sweatshirt she wore slid off her shoulder, revealing the smooth, silky skin he’d kissed so many times before.

“Don’t. Touch. Me.”

Withdrawing the offending hand, he shoved his fists in the pockets of his jeans. The eyes he’d expected to flash with anger were flat, closed off to emotion. Closed to him. He couldn’t read her. She’d lost more than her usual sparkle. Gone were the larger than life emotions she typically wore on her sleeve. He’d been prepared for pissed off, screaming, even for a kick in the nuts if she felt so inclined. But he hadn’t been prepared for this. Not in the least. Unsure of what to say, he decided to start with the obvious.

“We need to talk.”

She just stared at him with that goddamned blank look, arms crossed over her chest. Shit. Not even an eye roll? He was so screwed.

“What you saw on Page Six, it wasn’t—” He growled in frustration, feeling like a damn heathen as he stood before her, wanting nothing more than to toss her pert little behind over his shoulder and lock her in the apartment. At least until he could make her see it his way. “It wasn’t what it looked like.”

The brittle laugh that spilled from her lips set his teeth on edge. “Really? All this time to think and that’s the best you could come up with? How original.”

“It’s the truth,” he said, removing his hat and tucking it in his back pocket. He raked a hand through his hair. “And if you’d answered my calls, I’d have told you days ago. Maybe saved us both a little heartache.”

“Oh, no you don’t,” she said, jabbing him in the chest with her pointer finger. Suddenly those flat eyes were alive, a raging inferno burning bright. “You do not get to pretend like this is hurting you, too, like you actually give a damn. You did this.” She poked him in the chest again. “And you know what the worst part is? I let you. I was actually stupid enough to believe it when you said you wanted me to be your girl. That you wanted the world to know.” She shook her head, a look of disgust contorting her face. “Why’d you do it, Ryan? Why ask me to be your girl if you were getting back together with Kelsey?”

“I am not getting back together with Kelsey. Ever.” Did she really believe that? After everything he’d told her?

“Oh, you were just sucking her brains out through her mouth then? Is that supposed to make me feel better?” She snorted. “You know, the least you could have done was told me yourself, instead of making me into some pathetic fucking club joke. Do you have any idea what they’re saying about me online? What kinds of messages I’m getting? It’s a total shit show. But I guess you don’t give a damn, right? You had your fun, and now you get to move on with your perfect goddamned Barbie doll and your perfect goddamned life.”

“I did not kiss Kelsey, and I sure as hell am not getting back together with her,” he bellowed, stuffing his hands back in his pockets. Otherwise he might’ve grabbed her by the shoulders and tried to shake some damn sense into her. She couldn’t seriously believe he’d wanted any of this? That he’d orchestrated it? After everything they’d been through together, didn’t she know him better than that? Didn’t she know him at all?

Determined to explain himself, he forged ahead like a bull in a china shop. “Kelsey set me up. She tried to kiss me, and I didn’t let her. I told her I was with you—that we were happy. That picture? What you saw in the paper? She tripped. The only thing I did for Kelsey was keep her from face planting on the carpet. And believe me, if I could take back those three seconds of chivalry, I sure as hell would’ve let her bite it.”

Chloe pursed her lips. “So you didn’t kiss her?”

“No,” he said, stepping closer, sensing her resolve melting. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

“But she tried to kiss you?”

He paused. Where was she going with this? He had the distinct feeling he was about to step on a landmine, but seeing no other option, he answered truthfully. “Yes. This whole thing is some sick, twisted attempt to, I don’t know, salvage our failed relationship. That’s why I didn’t tell you about it in the first place. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

Tossing her head back, she laughed that empty, soul-slicing laugh again. “Are you really such a self-serving jackass? You didn’t want to hurt me? So you lied to me instead? Let me find out the truth from Page Six? How’s that working out for you, Ryan?” She shook her head, tears filling her eyes. “You know what? Don’t answer that. I can’t believe I ever trusted you. You can take all your bullshit and shove it up your five hole, Ryan.”

“Chloe—”

“You need to leave.” Her voice took on that hard edge again. She moved to close the door. Shit. He kept saying the wrong things, making it worse. Maybe he wasn’t explaining it right. There had to be a way to fix it.

“I’m not going anywhere until we figure this out,” he said, wedging his toe in the door and holding his ground. No way was he leaving things like this. Hell, it was worse than he could have imagined. She’d only just agreed to date him, and now she was ready to turn tail and run? With every fiber of his being he wanted to tell her he loved her, but he wouldn’t cheapen the sentiment like that. The first time she heard those words? It wouldn’t be him using them as leverage to right a wrong. It would be special, not some last ditch effort to save their terminal relationship. He just hoped he’d see that day.

“What is there to figure out?” she asked, her words dangerously low. “You’ve been manipulating me from the first moment we met. And you know what? I’m done. Done with the manipulation. Done with the lies. Done with this whole fake relationship. You need to leave. Now.”

“What are you talking about?” Did she really believe this was all some elaborate ruse? What? That he’d used her to get Kelsey back? To get more press? “You can’t really believe that? After all the time we’ve spent together?”

“Did you take a shot to the head?” she asked, ignoring his questions. She gripped the door so hard her knuckles turned white. “What part of ‘leave’ don’t you understand?”

Quick as a flash, she reached behind the door and grabbed something. His jersey. She flung it at him, hitting him square in the chest. He took a step back, shock rippling through his body. “Maybe this will clear it up for you. I never want to see your face again.”

Clutching the jersey to his chest, with Chloe’s scent clinging to the soft fabric, he stood there speechless as she slammed the door and locked it. The sound of the bolt sliding home rang out like a gunshot in the silent hall. He finally understood what it meant to be shot through the heart. And it hurt like a motherfucker.

C
hloe pressed her back to the door and slid down the cool metal surface. Crumpling to the floor, she pulled her knees to her chest and tucked in her chin. She would not cry over Ryan Douglas. Not again. He’d already gotten too many of her tears and too many sick days. She was tapped out, both physically and emotionally. Only it seemed her stupid body hadn’t gotten the message. Fresh tears leaked from her eyes, which meant another headache was sure to follow. Fan-freaking-tastic. Just what she didn’t need.

How could she have been so stupid? Letting herself get swept up in the fairytale, thinking maybe she could be enough for a guy like Ryan when she hadn’t been enough for Shane the Speedo or, hell, even Dave the Douche. Happily Never After. That would be her story. It was more apparent than ever.

A sob wrenched from her throat. Using the sleeve of her sweatshirt, she wiped the tears from her eyes, knowing it was a futile effort. More would spill before the night was through. And why did it have to hurt so freaking bad?

A dozen times before she’d thought her heart was broken, but each of those hurts paled in comparison to what Ryan’s betrayal made her feel. She couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t stop crying. Even her chest hurt, as if she’d been pummeled by love, as if a broken heart were an actual physical ailment. And there was no doubt her heart was broken. Somewhere along the way, she’d fallen for Ryan. Hard. Despite her best efforts to shut him out, he’d slipped past her defenses.

This thing with Ryan? It might have been the real deal if he hadn’t gone and fucked the whole thing up. Stupid-controlling-two-timing-good-for-nothing-lying-son-of-a-bitch.

Chloe shuddered. For the first time in her life, telling it like it was made her feel worse, not better. The tightness in her chest refused to subside, and every time she thought of Ryan—in any context—it seemed to get worse. The idea of never seeing Ryan’s smiling face again? It was like a penalty shot to the heart. Without him she felt…empty.

For a brief moment, she wished she’d kept the stupid jersey. She’d slept in it every night. The damn thing was probably drenched in her tears. Even though his duplicity had shredded her heart, the stupid jersey brought her comfort, reminding her of the good times they’d shared before it had all come crashing down. Still, she’d meant what she said, she didn’t want to see him again. It was too hard.

Tonight’s visit had proven it. She’d nearly caved. The way he’d looked at her with those pleading eyes? One touch and she’d have let him in. No, she’d just have to learn to live with the pain. Letting Ryan get that close again would be lethal to her resolve.

After all, even if he hadn’t kissed Kelsey—and that was a big
if
because she wasn’t convinced he hadn’t—he’d still lied to her. It didn’t matter if it was a lie of omission. He could’ve told her what happened. Instead he’d hidden it, hoping she’d never find out.

Lies and subterfuge?

That was hardly the foundation for a healthy relationship. While she’d been blissed out, basking in the glow of the perfect New Year’s kiss, he’d been plotting to keep secrets from her. And if he lied about something like this, what else would he lie about? What else had he lied about? He’d been in control since the day they met. She’d refused to acknowledge it, but how many times had he convinced her to do something she didn’t want to do? Using her job and her involvement with Garden of Dreams as leverage. At the time she hadn’t thought much of it, but now? In retrospect, she couldn’t help but wonder if each of his moves had been calculated. Did she even know him at all? The Blueshirt Challenge, sneaking cookies to the kids, their time at The Garden, Gremlins. Had any of it been real? Maybe he’d been playing her from the start, feeding her all the right lines to bring her defenses down.

No.

She refused to believe it. She knew Ryan better than that. At least she thought she did. Then again, she never would have believed he was sucking face with Kelsey just moments before kissing her either. It was… It was sick. Twisted. Egotistical. How could that be the same man who held her close and made love to her like she was the only woman in the world? How could he be so honorable and kind one moment and morph into a complete jackass the next?

Her stomach heaved. It was too much. She was going to throw up.

Covering her mouth, she raced to the bathroom and emptied the sparse contents of her stomach. Afterward, she stood before the sink, splashing cold water on her cheeks and hating the zombified face that stared back at her. No two ways about it, she looked like hell.

How long would it take for life to return to normal? For the whole humiliating thing to blow over and for people to move on to the next big scandal? How long could she stomach the internet trolls? They were brutal, but even worse was the pitying stares of her friends and coworkers. They’d gone from looking at her like she’d won the romance lottery to looking worried her brand of shit relationship karma might be contagious. Worst of all, she was starting to think they were right.